Silenced Heartbeat
by Hebir Naid Thurin
Summary: A Dark vampire joins the Fellowship on their quest to protect them against the dangers ahead. But will she be able to protect them against herself and her kin? Rated for blood and violence. No slash or sex, just smoochies... :P
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: puts on ridiculously thick glasses and starts to read from paper with monotonous voice I do not own anything you recognise as the property of J.R.R Tolkien or any other author or movie-script writer but the things you do not recognise are to be considered as mine. If you have any questions about what you may use in your own fanfictions; Please do e-mail me, there is a link on my profile. I do not own any songs or poems that may be featured in this story. takes off glasses and puts on a pink wig and yellow tutu, just for the fun of it

A/N: Wow, first chapter! Well, I´ll just let you read and say what you think of it... If someone would want to be my Beta, please e-mail me! I´m in desperate need of one since English isn´t my first language. Hmm, I´d better post this now, my little-sister is sitting besides me chanting "Cous-Cous" while rocking back and forth... No one knows what she might do to the computer... Don´t forget to review everyone, won´t post if I don´t get any response! Oh, by the way, I´ll probably change the title of this fic when I´ve found something more suiting... Tell me what you think!

Chapter one,

The elven guard shifted nervously on the thick branch he was perched upon, keen eyes searching the autumn forest surrounding him. His brown clothing made him blend in perfectly against the trunk of the tree and the elf knew that he was invisible to anyone who was not standing directly under his branch, looking straight up at him. Then why did he have the unmistakable feeling of being watched?

He had been guarding the boarders of Imladris for many long years and he was the one who was in charge of training the cocky novices into undetectable, silent and deadly guards, a responsibility which he was very proud of having been given. It was a sign of his ability as a guard and it made him a respected elf in Imladris.

Aye, he knew that he was a very skilled guard and thus it was very unnerving knowing that someone was watching him. Because someone was watching him, there was no doubt about that. Someone was seeing not only his frame but also all of his features and, he shifted once again when the unsettling realisation dawned upon him, his thoughts and his soul. The elven guard had only had a feeling like this once before in his nearly three and a half thousand years of life: When he had sworn his guard´s oath to the Lord of Imladris, Elrond Peredhil. But then again, this felt entirely different. This presence within his mind was not the one of the stern but caring lord, but instead one of... Darkness. Haunting, whispering, mesmerizing, rapacious Darkness.

As soon as his mind came to this conclusion the presence seemed to smirk at him and it withdrew instantly. The proud elf was now terrified. He had no idea what this presence was but his mind could tell this much: It was a predator and he was its prey. The guard did not know how he had gotten this knowledge but he did not question it. He felt a fear so primitive and all-consuming and it was a miracle he had not yet given into the panic that gripped his mind and simply run off. He noticed that he had been breathing in short gasps and willed himself to breathe slower and deeper. Taking an especially deep breath he considered his possible actions, quickly determining that the best thing to do was to alert the other guards of the danger and then leave for Imladris and speak to Lord Elrond.

Normally, if a fiend walked past the borders, he would have been killed instantly by the guards and the inhabitants of Imladris would have heard nothing of it. But the elf knew that this was no normal Orc or other lowly evil creature. This one was too powerful, too rational, too Dark. Lord Elrond had ordered the guards to heighten the security around Imladris because of the important council which was to be held in a fortnight and he would want to know of the potent dark being that was prowling the borders.

The guard pulled himself from his thoughts and searched his surroundings once more. Finding nothing noteworthy, he nimbly leapt from his branch to the next tree and was soon making his way to Imladris through the treetops without as much as the rustle of a leaf.

'Veryan.' The vampire silently tasted the name. 'Veryan, brave one.' It was the name she had extracted from the elf´s mind before he had noticed her presence and she decided that it suited him. To keep such fear as she awakened in him at bay and actually be able to think somewhat logically took great strength of mind. Of course, he was an elf but still... Or was it she who had forgotten just how different elves were to humans?

After all, she had not met or even seen a single elf since she had been turned three thousand years ago. Her sire had brought her to the vampire stronghold of Eidolon and within its obsidian walls had she spent her days. That is when she wasn´t roaming the streets of Minas Anor, Osgiliath or Minas Ithil, hunting down her prey.

When Minas Ithil and Osgiliath were abandoned and the people fled to Minas Tirith, the vampires had scattered throughout the lands of men in order to prevent an epidemic of blood-loss in the White City and thereby arousing suspicions of their existence. The race of vampires had always preferred being considered as nothing more than mythical creatures, it guaranteed them the peace they wanted to be able to live, hunt and wander as they wished. The mortals were much easier to ensnare if they didn´t have any worries about that the maiden they were helping to find her way through the Great City could be an undead predator who would rip their throat open as soon as they came to a deserted alleyway.

But the wish for secrecy was now fading in the minds of the Evil Ones. The Evil Vampires, who require the Light that comes with draining their victim dry, wants nothing more than not having to feed in secrecy but to kill freely and thus break the ancient unwritten law of confidentiality. The Dark Vampires, who does not necessarily kill the one they are feeding from, has so far managed to restrain the Evil Ones but their power over them is weakening.

Ever since the first whispers of Sauron´s offer were heard, the Dark Ones has not allowed any vampire to sire anyone. By doing this, the numbers of Evil Vampires has stopped increasing and enabled the Dark Ones to keep their supremacy even though they are greatly outnumbered, the Evil Ones being three times as many. But the act has raised the dissatisfaction amongst the Evil Vampires and many seem tempted by Sauron´s proposal.

The Dark Ones does not share Sauron´s visions and that was why she had been sent to Imladris, the elven refuge which men call Rivendell. All vampires knows that the Ringwraiths has been sent out by their master but not many knows the reason. Her sire, Zebulon, was one of the few who felt the One Ring´s powers starting to call for its master more strongly and he also felt it being used. The first time he felt the increase in power which meant someone was wearing the One Ring he mistook it for the feeling of Sauron´s powers increasing, a common sensation since some time back, but the next time it was no doubt that it was indeed the Ring which was trying to make its way back to its master.

Zebulon and his brother of blood, being the Elders of the most powerful vampire clan, Leonidas, decided that someone should see to it that the Ring would not return to Sauron. With their combined Light Zebulon and Sirius managed to find out that the One Ring was in the hands of a hobbit named Frodo Baggins who was heading towards Rivendell.

She had always been kept well protected and had not been allowed to travel outside the country of Gondor. Her impatience had been growing for many years and when she had heard of her sire´s plans she had begged on her knees to be chosen as the one who would be sent to Rivendell to speak with the elven lord and aid the future Ringbearer in the destruction of the One Ring. Because the Ring had to be destroyed, otherwise Sauron would sooner or later get hold of it and envelop the lands of Middle-Earth in a never ending darkness. Eventually Zebulon, Sirius and the Elders of the three other clans had permitted her to go, but not without accompanying guards.

With a small nod to the two following vampires she stepped out of the Shadows which she had wrapped around her to shroud her from Veryan´s excellent eyes and began walking in the direction of the elven city. She sent a mental message to her guards that it would only take them a day to reach Rivendell, another fact she had learned from her intrusion in the elf´s mind.

Explanation of words:

Elder: A leader of one of the four vampire clans.

Sire: When a vampire turns somebody into a vampire the older vampire becomes the younger ones sire.

Childe: The younger vampire is his/hers sire´s childe. Note that the relationship between sire and childe isn´t always that of a parent and child, it can be like the bond between two lovers. More information will come on the difference in later chapters.

A/N: I promise, things will be explained in later chapters! I have really thought this story through, I have even written the whole history of the vampires along with bloodlines and all. Do not hesitate to send me your questions in either reviews or e-mails, I can´t promise that all will be answered right ahead since they may be in the story later on but I´ll answer all that can be answered!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

A/N: OK guys, here's chapter two! Thanks a lot to miraculasacies and The Cap'n for their reviews! I'll get you a shirtless elven archer each. As soon as I can catch them that is. Damn, they're fast! I'll do anything for you guys though, it's you who keep me going. My muses gets paid with reviews you see and if I don't get any reviews my muses wont work... Hope you like this chapter and you should know that I have no intention _whatsoever _to give up on this story! Just wait 'til Lionel enters the story and you'll know why... hint, hint. Don't forget to review!

Chapter two,

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction."

Elrond looked sternly upon the gathered representatives of the free races of Middle-Earth who were all watching him intently. He was pleased with the fact that he had their full attention, even the dwarves were listening carefully to his words.

"None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate-this one doom."

Whispers spread through the assemblage. Elrond smiled grimly to himself, he had expected that his words would have this affect. But he soon realised that it was not his words that had brought this reaction. In the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of movement and he sharply turned his head to the right, seeking the one who dared interrupt the council when he had told his servants that he did not wish to be disturbed. Upon finding their target, his eyes followed the lithe form as it stopped in front of him.

Frodo sat erect in his chair. A lady had entered the terrace where the secret council was held and she now stood in front of Lord Elrond who looked quite taken aback at the sight of the slender woman. Frodo watched her profile as neither she nor Elrond uttered a word. She was obviously an elf, her silver blond waist-length hair was braided in an elvish fashion which revealed her pointed ears. She had a straight nose, a high forehead and prominent cheekbones. Her lips were fuller and a deeper red than he had seen in any elf before and her complexion more pale. Her frame was surrounded by the luminous glow of the elves but it did not shine steadily as in every elf Frodo had ever met, instead it seemed to swirl as if something unknown within disturbed her elven light.

Frodo figured that this elf came from a land far away for her clothing was very different from the traditional clothes of the elves. Her clothes bore no evidence of a long journey though, they looked newly made. She wore a blood red tunic of an airy material with large bellsleeves and intricate silver embroideries on the hem and around the deep neck. The embroideries were of elvish style: A single winding vine with small loops growing from it like delicate leaves sprouting from a flower's stalk. Over the loose tunic the elfmaiden wore a cincher of black silk which was tightly laced in the front and sides, something Frodo never thought he would see an elf wear. The elleth also wore black silk leggings which clung tightly to her long legs. Her tight-fitting boots were made of black leather and they ended just below her knees.

The hooded cloak which hung from her shoulders was fastened at the base of her neck with a brooch in the form of a black rose. The cloak was the piece of clothing that caught Frodo's interest the most. The material was smooth and light, and Frodo could hint the same silver embroidery as on her tunic but larger reaching up from the hem of the cloak on the back. The colour of the cloak was most unsettling. It was as black as a starless night and it appeared to Frodo that the cloak was actually consuming every bit of light which reached its surface.

Frodo tore his eyes away from the strange elleth when Strider suddenly cleared his throat and spoke: "Who are you elleth? Speak up!"

The elleth made no sign that she had even heard Strider's question and the ranger opened his mouth to speak again but closed it quickly when the lady's voice sounded.

"I am Kiara Leonidas of Zebulon's blood," she stated with a melodious, mellow voice.

Kiara touched her heart with her right hand in an elvish greeting and the wide bellsleeve slipped down to her elbow, exposing a strange jewellery on her right hand. A black rose, identical to the brooch fastening her cloak, sat on the base of her ring finger. Vines of mithril grew from either side of it, slithering their way round her finger, crossing on the back of her hand and then circling her wrist. No leaves protruded from the vines, only short but deadly sharp thorns.

"I am no elf, I am a vampire."

Many things happened after those words had left the vampire's mouth. The elves from Mirkwood leapt to their feet as did the dwarves, the latter with their axes lifted. The silvan elves had not brought any weapons to the council but they positioned themselves around their prince, providing him with the protection of their bodies.

The elves of Rivendell had merely tensed in their chairs. They were the ones with the greatest knowledge of the true nature of vampires and therefor they knew very well that they would have no chance defending themselves or their lord if this demon chose to attack. Lord Erestor and Lord Glorfindel rose to their feet though and edged closer to Elrond, their hands on the hilt of their swords.

The men simply stared at the unmoving woman, their brows furrowed in confusion. Why did this she-elf proclaim to be a being that only exists in myths and bedtime stories?

Frodo was about to rise from his chair when Gandalf put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder to hold him down. The wizard shook his head warningly and then turned his attention back towards the vampire and the elven lord. Frodo was puzzled by Gandalf's calm. The hobbit did not know much about vampires other than the fact that they were undead and drank blood from the living but these limited amounts of facts were enough to make him bewildered at the thought that one would not fear these creatures of the night.

Kiara had a hard time resisting the urge to turn around and attack one of the distressed Mirkwood elves. She could hear the quickened beats of their immortal hearts, their powerful blood surge through their veins and she felt the Shadows tempting her to sink her teeth into their elegant necks.

She wanted their eternal blood so badly, why did she resist her own wish? She was a vampire, the strongest predator in Middle-Earth, why didn't she use this opportunity and finally get to taste the sweetness of the Firstborn? A sweetness which would taste so unlike the musky, pungent flavour of men...

Kiara saw the warning in Elrond's eyes and she realised that her eyes had begun to frost over. With a small shake of her head she willed the whispers of the Shadows to the back of her mind and retracted her fangs. When she was in control of her thoughts again she inclined her head toward the elven lord whose frown relaxed slightly even though the warning still was evident in his eyes.

"I have been invited to this council by Elrond Peredhil," Kiara said.

This sentence quickly put a stop to the noise on the terrace as everybody turned their gazes to the motionless Lord of Imladris.

"And I must apologise for my late arrival even though I can not be given full responsibility. The guards of Rivendell are indeed extremely adroit and meticulous in their work and unfortunately I had to use some of my... _rare_ skills to get pass them. Do not worry though, only their pride was hurt," she said quickly when the elves started to shout furiously, "I laid no hand on them." Elrond gazed deeply into the eyes of the vampire. After a few seconds his scowl lightened up and he gave Kiara a content nod.

"Then you may take your seat and let the council continue."

"Of course my lord." Kiara inclined her head once again before she cast a fleeting glance around the terrace in order to locate an empty chair. The only vacant stood beside the dark-haired man who had spoken earlier. Kiara looked into his grey eyes and let her mind brush against his. A small smirk formed on her lips when she felt the immense amount of Light hidden within him. He was apparently someone of great importance and strength. It would do her no good to search deeper since the Light would react, alerting him of her trespassing.

Kiara broke eye contact with the man, walked over to the chair on his left and sat down. She looked around at the assemblage, an amused gleam in her eyes. The dwarves had taken their seats again and were now muttering gruffly amongst themselves, sometimes eyeing her warily. The elves who had risen earlier were beginning to settle down but it was evident that they were much more bothered by her presence.

Kiara noticed that these elves were not from Rivendell and she wondered from where they came. Picking out the one with the least amount of Light she carefully searched his mind for the answer and upon finding it she quickly withdrew. She was probably more cautious than she needed to be but she kept in mind that she had only searched the mind of an elf once before: The guard in the woods a fortnight ago. The enormous mental power that lord Elrond had attacked her barriers with had left her on her guard and even though she found it highly unlikely that many other elves held such powers she did not intend to risk anything. So instead of assaulting the unknowing elf's mind more than she had to at the moment she pondered over the answer she had extorted: Mirkwood.

Kiara was very puzzled with the answer. At the time she had been turned there had been no elvish kingdom called Mirkwood. Perhaps it was just a small settlement? 'It could be a part of Lothlorien...' she mused, 'They do look like silvan elves with their flaxen hair; like molten gold and silver combined.' But she knew that it was not true. A part of Lothlorien would never bear a name such as Mirkwood, nor would the Lord and Lady of Lórien who had taken over the lordship of Lothlorien after Amroth Amdirion's death let their people divide into groups.

The elves from Mirkwood were now all seated and Kiara was able to take a closer look at a certain elf that the others had seemed very reluctant to step away from. He was extremely handsome. There was no other way Kiara would be able to describe him. Blond hair, the colour of the first rays of sunshine in the dawn, framed a finely chiselled face with high cheekbones, soft lips and a defiant chin.

Suddenly the elf looked up from the hushed conversation he had held with one of his companions and their gazes locked. His eyes were a cold blue colour, his gaze was strong and unwavering as if he saw the very depths of her wretched soul.

Kiara quickly fortified her barriers, thinking that he might be of great mental strength, but his mind did not seek hers. He simply contained the eye-contact with a look of daring in his eyes.

Kiara berated herself for being so edgy. 'They are just elves! Zebulon told you to be _cautious_ but that's no reason to act like a child who's scared of the night!' She fought off the urge to bare her fangs and hiss at him and simply held his gaze, a smirk playing on her lips. After a few seconds she cocked an eyebrow at him, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. 'If it's a staring contest he wants then I'll be happy to beat him,' she thought.

And beat him she did. As lord Elrond's voice was heard the elf shot Kiara a final look of defiance and turned his head towards the elven lord.

"Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

A/N: So, what do you think of Kiara? I really want to know what you want to happen in this story, especially with the pairing! As it is now I haven't decided whether there will be one, even less whom Kiara should fall in love with... But it does look like she has taken a fancy to a certain elvish prince... wink, wink. Tell me what you think!


End file.
